


Apparently Khadgar Has A Secret

by fw_feathers (mia826)



Series: Apparently Khadgar Is A Dragon [5]
Category: Warcraft (2016)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M, bleps, dragon!gar, khadgar is a dragon, kitten-like behavior, mock pouncing, more tags to be added later for (ha!) Chapter 2, nose boops, sitting on people (ish), this is called the Checklist Chapters for a reason
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 12:28:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7618132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mia826/pseuds/fw_feathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Lothar's just an idiot.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apparently Khadgar Has A Secret

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyTrelane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyTrelane/gifts).



> Eria, Rekt, and Finas gave me a list of cute things for dragon!gar to do. I added children for extra cheese. This is the result.
> 
> For Tre, and I'm sorry I took so long :')

Lothar’s not sure what would have happened to them if Khadgar hadn’t been around. Llane’s death had taken a great toll on his family. Taria, too busy managing the kingdom and the greater fate of Azeroth both, could no longer care for her children as much as she used to. Lothar does his best to help, especially with the stubborn lords and ambassadors from the other kingdoms, but he is also busy preparing what was left of their troops for Stormwind’s inevitable invasion. Adariall, who had never been a quiet child, seems to shrink into herself as the days pass by. Varian has lost any semblance of the eager puppy who followed his father around whenever he had the chance. He retreats into a constant, sullen mood, throwing everything he has into his sword fighting lessons with a frightening expression for a small child.

At least, he would, if Khadgar would let him. 

Every day, whenever Lothar sees the children getting too quiet, Khadgar is there. Lothar passes by the library, to find Khadgar reading to a pair of fascinated children sitting on the floor. He walks through the patrols on the castle walls, and spots the three in the garden below, as Khadgar demonstrates his newest spell to the two. He hears a comment from a maid about the courtyard and finds the dragon napping there, and the children trying to sneak up on him.

Which, incidentally, is happening right now.

He leans against the balustrade, arms crossed, and watches Varian and Adariall creeping towards Khadgar’s head. To be fair, they are doing a good job of staying downwind, Adariall’s soft slippers and Varian’s worn boots making no sound on the stone floor. Lothar would be worried about them catching the dragon off-guard (it’s never a good idea to surprise a dragon), except he can see the end of Khadar’s tail twitching slightly in anticipation. 

It’s easy to read Khadgar if you know what you’re looking for. 

Varian steps right up to Khadgar’s face, fearless of the creature whose head is as tall as him. He reaches out for the ridge over Khadgar’s closed eye, where Lothar knows Khadgar particularly likes being scratched. 

Right before his fingers could land, Khadgar darts his head back.

He never opens his eyes; he doesn’t move aside from his neck and the happy twitch of his tail. Varian yelps and almost collapses on his face, if not for Adariall’s grip on the back of his tunic. “Aw, come on!” Varian says, stomping his foot with an angry pout. “I almost had it!”

Khadgar opens one eye at half mast, smugness dripping from every scale. “Almost isn’t quite enough, my prince. Head scritches must be _earned_.”

Varian crosses his arms, a childish reflection of his uncle’s favored stance. “You’re making it hard on _purpose._ ”

Khadgar just sticks his tongue out at him. He doesn’t even make an effort to do it; just a little bit of pink sticking out between his front fangs. Lothar has to cover his grin at the sight. 

Incensed, Varian lets loose a loud battle cry, and charges after the dragon. Khadgar evades him with ease. He never raises his head from the ground, only using his flexible neck to dart out of reach. Varian, in turn, only aims his lunges towards Khadgar’s head. Again, Lothar would be worried about the prince spearing himself on one of Khadgar’s many spines. But he sees the way they stay flat against Khadgar’s head and how Khadgar adjusts his movement to keep Varian within sight, and knows he has nothing to fear.

To the side, Adariall sniffs, with all the wisdom of an older sister. “That’s the _point,_ Varian. That’s what earning it _means._ ”

“You must prove yourself worthy of head scritches, my prince,” Khadgar agrees solemnly. Varian tries to take advantage of his distraction, but Khadgar dodges anyway. And only just enough for Varian to miss too. The twinkle in his eye contrasts with the seriousness in his voice. “Only the truly skilled may claim the honor of besting a dragon.”

Lothar decides that’s his cue. He uncrosses his arms and walks down the steps towards the trio. “Does that mean I get the honor of proclaiming I have bested a dragon?” 

“Uncle Lothar!” Varian’s face lights up as he nears. Adariall’s more restrained, but there’s a big smile on her face as she dips into a curtsy.

Khadgar’s reaction is the biggest of them all. His spines flare, his great maw baring in a feral grin. “Lothar!” He raises his head over the children and bumps his snout against Lothar’s chest. It’s enough to make Lothar stagger. He rolls his eyes and obediently reaches over to scratch behind Khadgar’s eye ridge. The musical sound of Khadgar’s purr rings throughout the courtyard in response.

“How come Uncle Lothar gets head scritches?” Adariall asks, pouting.

“Uhh,” is Khadgar’s eloquent reply.

“That’s because I have already bested him, of course,” Lothar says in the same, formal tone Khadgar has been using with the children.

Said dragon’s head disappears from Lothar’s hands faster than a kitten’s sneeze. Khadgar arches his neck, wings slightly spread, the picture of an affronted dragon. “No you didn’t,” he says, snorting.

Lothar raises an eyebrow. “Oh? So the first time in the field-” He holds up his hand and mimes clawing at the air. “-didn’t count? And the others after?” The _many_ others after, he reminds the dragon, with a smug quirk to his lips.

Khadgar’s spines stay raised, but his tail makes a thump as it flattens against the ground. Lothar takes that as embarrassment. “That’s not besting! I let you do it!”

“I bet Uncle Lothar did it!” Varian jumps in, ever loyal. “In fact, I bet he could even do it again!”

“Yeah! Me too!” Even Adariall looks excited by the idea.

Chuckling, Lothar looks up at Khadgar, hooking his hands on his belt. “Well then, spell-chucker. What do you say?”

Khadgar’s tail sways from side to side as he tilts his head a little and considers it. Slowly, his dragon smile spreads across his face. “Are you sure you want to challenge me, Commander?” He lowers his head to the ground, wings and tail rising in a threatening display. 

The children gasp, but Lothar only grins in reply, seeing the excited glint in Khadgar’s eyes. “Any rules to this challenge, oh great dragon?” 

“Just try and catch me.” 

Lothar shrugs. _Okay, sure,_ his shoulders say. Then he lunges for his snout. Khadgar yanks his head back, snorting with glee. The children shriek and cheer, calling out “Uncle Lothar!” at the top of their lungs. It doesn’t seem to deter Khadgar. Again, the dragon never raises his head higher than Lothar can reach, mocking him with a game of cat and mouse.

Lothar doesn’t play quite as fair. He feints to the right, then to the left, watching the way Khadgar’s neck scales shimmer as he dodges. The children squeal. Khadgar roars his laughter. Lothar knows he’s really enjoying it when he starts prancing on his feet, doing eager little hops from side to side. While Khadgar hadn’t moved his main body during the chase with Varian, he makes an exception for Lothar, dancing like a snake away from his reaching hands. His tail snaps around in his eagerness, and almost takes out a nearby vase. Varian and Adariall scramble back, but it doesn’t stop their enthusiastic cheering for their uncle.

Lothar catches a pattern and decides to strike. He feints again, pretending to go for Khadgar’s right. Khadgar laughs and darts around him, leaving his neck wide open. Lothar dives.

He lands over Khadgar’s spines. They hadn’t been standing straight up like they would before a real threat, which is the only reason Lothar doesn’t get gutted. Khadgar collapses with a frightening wheeze. Lothar freezes. “Khadgar?”

“He did it!” Varian cheers, pumping his fist in the air.

“That’s cheating!” Adariall argues. “You’re supposed to aim for Khadgar’s head, not his neck!”

“Obviously, Uncle Lothar doesn’t haveto.” Varian sticks his tongue out at his sister. He didn’t get _that_ from Lothar.

Lothar ignores the squabbling siblings for now. “Khadgar?” he says urgently, getting off the dragon. The spikes flare, then flatten, folding the small amounts of webbed skin between them. 

“I’m okay,” Khadgar croaks. “Gimme a minute.” He coughs, and spits out a cloud of smoke. His sides heave with every breath.

“You don’t sound okay,” Lothar points out.

Khadgar laughs, a breathy sound. “Don’t do that with plate armor.” Lothar takes note even as he caresses Khadgar’s scales in concern. Khadgar doesn’t even need to hear words. He turns his great head around and gently nudges Lothar. Lothar huffs, but transfers his caresses to Khadgar’s cheek.

“See, see? I told you Uncle Lothar could do it!” Varian continues, pointing at them. Lothar opens his mouth to answer, but Khadgar beats him to it.

“Ahh,” Khadgar says. His voice fills Lothar with foreboding. “But can he take… _The Revenge of the Dragon?_ ” And with that, he’s off, rubbing his head and neck aggressively against Lothar’s sides.

“Khadgar!” Lothar yelps. He tries to turn, or dodge, but Khadgar just ducks and starts rubbing against his legs instead. The children are shrieking again. Lothar finds an opening and leaps backwards, only for Khadgar to sweep his tail behind his knees. He goes down with a yell.

“Gotcha!” With a gleeful whistle, the dragon pounces. It only takes one clawed hand spread wide to pin Lothar down by his chest. The other goes on top of it, then Khadgar’s chin, until the dragon is in his customary resting position. Only this time, Lothar is underneath.

Lothar can feel his satisfied purr rumbling through his bones. He tries to push Khadgar’s snout, but it doesn’t budge. His breath smells like dragon and burnt wool, which tells Lothar interesting things about his breakfast that morning. 

“Get off, you’re heavy,” Lothar grunts. Khadgar just flicks his tongue out at him, except this time, he licks Lothar too. “ _Ugh._ ” Lothar groans.

The children squeal in both delight and disgust. “Unhand him, evil beast!” Varian yells, latching on to Khadgar’s snout.

“You’re not helping, Var!” Adariall cries, very helpfully.

“Oh no!” Khadgar takes extra care in raising his head and setting Varian down to the side. “I have been beaten by the prince!” He gives Varian a little nudge, encouraging the child to let go. “Because he took me off-guard, he gets _one_ head scritch.” 

Varian’s answering beam could outshine the sun. Adariall creeps closer to her brother, her eyes big and pleading. “Me too?” she asks.

“And the princess too.” Khadgar nods, all graciousness and generosity.

“You have to let Uncle Lothar go too,” Varian says bravely, one hand keeping his sister back and behind him.

“ _And_ the Commander.” Grinning his dragon grin, he removes his claws – but not before licking Lothar one last time.

“ _Thank you,_ Bookworm.” Lothar grimaces, wiping the spit off his face. Gods help him get the smell out of his beard. Khadgar replies with his snorting laughter, which turns into a musical purr as kids start attacking him from both sides. Lothar watches, hands on his hips, unable to stay angry at the sight of Khadgar, rolling onto his side, tail swishing and back leg kicking as the children giggle and scratch whatever they can reach.

“What an adorable view.” Lothar turns to face his sister, who’s watching the same scene with a soft smile on her face. It’s rare to see it nowadays. He walks closer to her, if only to get out of the wind Khadgar’s wings are stirring.

“Khadgar’s good for them,” he agrees, crossing his arms. Ugh, now Khadgar’s spit is getting _sticky._ His nose wrinkles as he tries to wipe his face, resulting in as much success as the last time – zero.

“And for you.” Taria gives him a knowing look. Lothar frowns at her, his hand pausing on his chin.

“What do you-”

“Varian, _no!_ ”

Varian yells. Lothar whips his head around in time to see Khadgar launch himself across the courtyard. A huge gust of wind follows right after, knocking Adariall and Varian on their backs. Taria and Lothar shield their eyes from the dust stirred by Khadgar’s landing. He hisses, snapping his teeth in Varian’s direction.

“-told you, I _told_ you not to do it, and now he’s _mad!_ ” Adariall shrieks at her brother. She looks fine, and so does Varian, except while Adariall is right where Lothar last saw her, Varian is a few feet away. Lothar frowns.

“Varian! Adariall!” Taria picks up her skirts and runs to her children. Since they seem fine, Lothar heads towards the dragon instead. Khadgar’s eyes never leave Varian, even as he circles around and away from them. His wings aren’t resting against his back, but at least they’re not raised in a full-blown challenge. 

“Khadgar,” Lothar calls out, still well-away from the tense dragon. Khadgar’s eyes flicker to him. “Calm down,” he says as evenly as possible. “Varian’s not hurt, and neither are you.” As if a ten-year-old could scratch Khadgar with his fingernails. “It’s okay.”

Khadgar glances at Varian, then back at him. He spits out one last hiss, then takes a deep breath, forcing his tail and wings down. “Sorry,” he rumbles, his voice still part growl. “He surprised me.”

Lothar frowns, glancing at the children. There are tear-streaks on Adariall’s cheeks, but they’re already drying as Adariall rants to her mother, raising her voice over her brother’s protests. “-not supposed to go near his stomach, or neck, or where Khadgar can see him, but _nooo_ , he had to be a _heero-_ ”

“-Uncle Lothar did it!” Varian howls over his sister’s voice. Any higher and the children will be breaking windows. “If he can do it, why can’t I?”

Taria shushes him with a stern look. “Your uncle is the exception to the rule.” Lothar’s eyebrows rise. “If Khadgar tells you to stay away from his belly, you respect his wishes, understand?”

It takes a moment – Varian is as stubborn as _both_ his parents – but at last, the young prince nods. Adariall nods as well, though hers is more self-satisfied than anything. Varian scowls at her.

“Good,” their mother says, ignoring them both. It was always the bet of the day, whether or not Varian and Adariall would get along. “Now, apologize.”

She leads the children towards Khadgar and Lothar, one on each hand. Lothar glances at Khadgar, whose head had come to a stop beside him. Khadgar has all his attention focused on the children, his spines making a half-hearted effort to rise. 

…Is Khadgar avoiding his eyes?

“Sorry,” Varian mumbles, his chin resting against his chest. Khadgar lowers his head until it’s level with the child.

“It’s alright. You just scared me.” Varian’s head jerks up, eyes wide.

“Me? Scare _you_?”

Lothar can understand the child’s surprise. Khadgar is large enough that he could easily circle a peasant’s house from snout to tail. For him to be afraid of a small thing like Varian seemed ludicrous.

Khadgar only smiles. “Everyone has their weakness, little one. And,” he adds, moving forward until he could tap Varian lightly with his snout, “I was afraid I might hurt you.”

“Oh.” Varian’s eyes are wide as he tries to wrap his mind around this new idea. Seeing the problem is now over, Taria gives Khadgar a grateful smile before turning back to her children.

“As I was going to say earlier,” she says, giving a pointed look at all of them – Lothar included. “it’s time for lunch. You’ve played long enough. Please, join us as well, Khadgar,” she adds, seeing the dragon shift in place. Maybe Lothar isn’t the only one who can read Khadgar with ease. Or, he thinks, eyeing his sister, maybe mothers are universal in their unerring scrutiny.

“You can’t say no if the Queen asked you,” Lothar joins in, patting Khadgar on the snout. The dragon gives him a mournful look. He’s been trying to convince Khadgar to join their family meals himself. Taria just cuts straight to the point, deadly as a knife. Lothar loves it when it’s not directed at him.

“Alright,” Khadgar says. He shivers, a full-body ripple from his head to his tail. Arcane blue glows from between his scales, coalescing in his eyes – a familiar sight, no matter what form Khadgar takes. Lothar closes his eyes, already knowing what’s next. Still, the flash of light sears the underneath of his eyelids. Varian yelps – he probably didn’t close his eyes fast enough. Adariall gasps.

When Lothar opens his eyes, Khadgar is human again, stumbling a little over both feet, like he can’t quite get the hang of being bipedal again. He’s always like that after a transformation, so Lothar leaves him be.

“We’ll go ahead,” Taria says, taking hold of the children once more. “It seems the prince and the princess need a bath before lunchtime.” 

Varian and Adariall’s expressions morph into masks of horror.

Lothar chuckles, watching them whine and plead as they leave. He glances back at Khadgar, ready to urge him to follow, only to catch him rolling his neck with a grimace. “You alright?” he asks, moving towards him. 

Khadgar drops his hand, looking guilty. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a crick in the neck.”

“Liar.” Lothar cups the side of Khadgar’s neck, trying to feel any tender spots or bruises. His thumb is on Khadgar’s cheek, to keep him from turning away. “I didn’t hurt you, did I? I thought your scales would protect you; you’re softer than you look.”

He glances at Khadgar when the mage doesn’t reply. A mistake. 

Khadgar’s bright brown eyes are wide open, his gaze on Lothar’s face like it had been pinned there. There’s a hint of pink to his cheeks, just enough make his skin rosy in the afternoon sun. His lips are open, just a bit, as if there was a question or an answer on them but died before it could be released.

Lothar drops his hand like it’s been kissed by a hot iron. His heart is hammering in his ribs. He can feel his breath coming in faster. There’s at least a foot between them, but it feels like a canyon and a crack in the floor at the same time. 

“You should have that checked,” he hears himself say. Khadgar shakes his head, more like a dog shaking off water than him saying no.

“I told you, I’m fine. It’s nothing,” he insists, pulling his cloak around himself. “I’ll meet you in the dining room, I just need to get some things.” He rushes off, blue of a different kind swirling behind him. Lothar catches a flash of redness in his ears before he teleports – sorry, _Blinks;_ Khadgar gets huffy about the difference – away.

Lothar shakes his head, running a hand over his hair. There are times when he feels like he knows Khadgar like the back of his hand. Other times he feels like he’ll never know what’s going on in the mage’s mind.

He catches up to Talia in the hallway. The children are already being led away by the maids for their bath. “Oh? Where’s Khadgar?” she asks him, noting the lack of mage tailing behind.

“Went to get something in his rooms.” Keeping his voice low, he adds, “What do you mean I’m the exception to the rule?”

She raises one ever-impeccable eyebrow at him. “What do you think, Anduin?”

He hates it when she does that.

**Author's Note:**

> YEAH THAT'S RIGHT WHAT DO _YOU_ THINK ANDUIN
> 
> ahem. 
> 
> [main](http://arcane-renegade.tumblr.com) || [writing](http://fleeting-white-feathers.tumblr.com)
> 
> Hit me up at my blog/s! I love talking to people about everyone's favorite pupper mage <3


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